


the benefits of cancer season

by strangeparties



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany), SKAM (France), SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Love Confessions, M/M, Roommates, Smut, all the isaks like all the evens, eliott is crushing HARD, even and david are sweethearts, the evens would die for each other, the isaks are roommates and it's a disaster
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-04 03:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20464244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeparties/pseuds/strangeparties
Summary: Isak and Matteo - self-proclaimed best roommates ever - advertise Lucas’ availability on instagram. Lucas is less than thrilled… until an actual boyfriend application slips through their door.| on hiatus until further notice |





	1. seeking: love match for crabby cancerian

**Author's Note:**

> \- i CANNOT believe a grand total of no one has written an actual skamverse crossover here on ao3 with the isaks as college roommates. c'mon guys!!! it would be glorious and i need more tbh  
\- this was inspired by a reddit post i came across a long time ago, about some guy writing a cover letter applying to be someone's boyfriend. idk, it seemed like a dorky eliott thing to do so why not lmao  
\- all the boys here attend the university of amsterdam for... reasons (that may or may not have to do with lucas vdh, ehem)

It wasn’t often that the three of them got together like this, sprawled out in various positions all over their spacious dorm room - and on a Friday night, no less. Sometimes, Lucas found he enjoyed their company more than he wanted to admit. On these rare moments, they all _vibed_, despite being from different corners of the continent. Besides that, they were all somehow gay, a few years out of the closet, and had endured dysfunctional families.

Even if this was all a coincidence, it was still a little weird.

Not that Lucas minded. He liked weird; it kept life interesting. Off-kilter, even.

Still, if he found out they’d all been in love with their best friends at some point in their highschool life, then _that _would be the cherry on top of a very strange cake.

Thankfully, their conversations rarely ventured into past crushes. Most days, they (well, Isak and Lucas, if one was being objective) traded caustic barbs about whose turn it was for laundry day, why alarms were going off at six in the morning, whose shoes tracked ugly mud prints on the brand new welcome mat, etcetera, the list went on and on. Meanwhile, Matteo would be off on his own corner, either smoking a joint, sleeping like the dead, or making some unholy concoction in the microwave.

Although, in one instance, at some frat party they all happened to go to, there was one guy who told Lucas they all seemed like the _same person_ after talking to all of them in succession. Lucas felt mildly affronted, but had politely asked the guy to explain his whack ass theory.

_“No, no, I mean that you guys are all like… different sides of the same person, y’know?” What’s-his-face had said back then, gesticulating wildly, his drink spilling in dark red droplets all over Lucas’s black shirt. Jesus, good thing this guy was halfway decent-looking, or Lucas would’ve already kicked him in the nuts. “Tall blond is you, but like… kinda grumpy, bit shy around new people. The smaller blond is the chill, zoned out one, he just looks so out of it, it’s so funny. And you are…“_

_“The hot one?” Lucas supplied, helpfully._

_"Well, you’re all hot, so no, not that.” Lucas begged to disagree, but he wasn’t in the mood to go down this rabbit hole with a guy who was way too drunk and high to think rationally. “You’re the sensitive one. Something about your face tells me you cry at the drop of a hat.”_

_“Sensitive?” Lucas repeated, a small crease forming between his eyebrows._

_“Too bad the other two are taken.” He blatantly pointed to Isak in the thick of the crowded dancefloor, moving with his arms around Even’s neck. Then at Matteo, who was talking in low tones with David at the far end of the room, their foreheads almost touching. “I wouldn’t mind taking all three of you on. That’d be a dream.”_

_Lucas’s interest went from ‘considering’ to ‘dead zero’ in less than a second. “Even if they were single, you won’t catch me getting into bed with either of those losers, unless I died and they happened to be murdered beside me.”_

_"Woah, no need to be so morbid. Although coming from your pretty mouth, it’s kind of a turn-on.” What’s-his-face’s hand, cold and clammy, reached up to cup his cheek. “I bet I can make you cry in other ways…”_

_“Ugh.” Lucas pulled away with a grimace. And to think he was contemplating hooking up with this guy. Maybe he really was desperate. “I think we’re done here.”_

Okay, so. Not only was he _way_ cuter than either of his roommates (one of the few advantages of being vertically challenged), but he also had more than two braincells to rub together by virtue of being single. He was therefore blessed with clear eyes, clear skin (the envy of girls everywhere, and he was damn proud of it), and the unclouded judgment that came with being perpetually unattached to anyone or anything.

So when he saw _those_ instagram posts, he allowed himself go through all the stages of grief for being cursed with the _worst_ roommates ever, and then stomped into their shared room that Friday night with the intent to chuck everything his roommates held dear out the window of their 6th floor dorm room.

.

But things don’t always go according to plan. Which was, of course, how he found himself leaning against the wooden study table instead of clawing Isak’s curly blond hair out of his pretty little head, and eating the sad remnants out of what was probably an expired bag of vegetable chips.

“You two come up with the worst ideas. Like, next-level worst,” Lucas muttered darkly, putting his bare foot on Isak’s swivel study chair and leaning his leg against it just because he can. “And coming from two people who thought a beard growing contest was a good idea, that’s saying a lot.”

“Get your nasty foot off the furniture.” From his position on the lower half of the bunk, Isak delivered a sharp kick to the chair, sending it rolling and causing Lucas to fall to the ground. Lucas sent him a withering glare, but he was speed-rolling a joint and barely glanced Lucas’s way. “And excuse me, you’re just bitter I won best beard unopposed. At least Matteo could grow a soul patch.”

Lucas really didn’t want to talk about his past failure to achieve one of his two biggest desires in life (the other was hitting 190 cm, not that his roommates had any business knowing that). And he sure as hell didn’t want to reminisce about the time he lost the stupidest roommate bet known to mankind and had to cook dinner three weeks straight for two bottomless pits.

“Fuck you, Isak,” Lucas groaned from the floor, rolling his eyes. “You looked like a homeless mountain man with a full beard. I hope you gave Even beard burn.”

“Even _loved_ it, so joke’s on you.” Isak replied, sticking his tongue out like a totally mature person. He pulled a lighter from his hoodie pocket. “And the instagram posts were a _great_ idea. Matteo came up with it.”

Lucas stood up to full height, levelling a questioning look at Matteo sprawled on their room’s lone beanie bag, who shrugged. “Hearing you whine about wanting a boyfriend is just getting kind of sad, honestly.”

Lucas pouted. He was pretty used to Isak being an ass; it was his default mode around Lucas ever since they met and Isak had the audacity to tell him he was getting the lower bunk when Lucas got there first (by two minutes, but still!). But Matteo, too?

To be fair, Matteo just kind of laid down any flat surface in the room and smoked blunts, sometimes going for hours on end without acknowledging either his or Isak’s presence. Lucas swears he could drop dead on the spot and Matteo _still_ wouldn’t notice when he was in one of his moods.

When Isak and Matteo teamed up for whatever reason, though, they were on the same wavelength. Scarily so.

“I don’t _whine. _I just… express the desire for one or two dates. Putting it out into the universe since it’s Cancer season. Supposed to infuse me with energy and all the good stuff.”

“I’m a Cancer, too. Pretty fucking sure nothing’s happened of note. Unless you count the multiple times Even’s— ”

“Literally no one needs to know that,” Lucas interrupted, foot shooting out and hitting Isak on the ribs; Matteo snickered loudly on the side. “And you’re not a Cancer, you imposter. You’re a cusp, so shut the fuck up and let me live.”

“Shit, I can’t with you two and your obsession with birth charts,” Matteo mumbled, staring up at the ceiling.

“In my defense, I learned it by osmosis from Lucas always talking about the damn thing,” Isak said, lighting up the tip of the joint. “Honestly, I know it’s just your coping mechanism ‘cos you’re such a fucking control freak.”

Lucas threw a chip at Isak’s head. “Whatever. The universe might be trying to tell me something, okay.”

“Oh, sure,” Isak said dryly, syllables popping like rocks off his tongue. “I suppose all the guys we tried to set you up - where you bailed at the last minute - don’t count as the universe working its magic. Even’s still wondering why the hell you ditched the last guy he fixed you up with, by the way.”

“That guy,” Lucas said slowly, as if talking to a child, which he supposed Isak sometimes was, “was a frat guy. You know how those guys tend to be. I’m not dating anyone who wants to keep me a dirty little secret.”

“Fair point. Even’s just optimistic about the guys he thinks could be good for you,” Isak conceded easily. “He was so your type, though. Tall, dark hair, nice eyes, nice guns. Could’ve at least gotten a hook-up out of it.”

Lucas shook his head. “Bah, no. Barring the frat guy thing, we didn’t click at all.”

Isak looked like he was trying to stare into his soul. “You know, for someone who doesn’t have a lot of experience in dating, your taste just happens to be so…”

“Refined,” Lucas stressed, plucking the joint from Isak’s fingers and taking a prolonged hit. He flopped down the foot of Isak’s bed, shoving Isak’s sock-covered feet to the side to make room for himself.

“Impossibly picky,” Matteo said, making grabby hands at Lucas, who passed him the joint after taking two more hits. Matteo squinted at the rapidly burning tip. “Jesus, dude. Leave some for the people. My weed guy’s skipped town for a bit so we’re not getting a new batch ’til 2 weeks from now.” 

Isak giggled, which sounded strange as fuck, and meant he was already a bit peppy from the stuff they smoked. Even if it was just a single shared joint, Matteo’s guy did provide them with grade-A weed, after all. “I thought _you _were the weed guy on campus, Matty,”

Matteo glared at Isak, unamused. “Do _not_ call me that, Valtersen. And Lucas, I mean it. We’re down to our last two or three joints, give or take. That’s like, a red.”

In what was a testament to their reluctant bond as roommates, the three of them had come up with a code. Green for minor incidents, like _no toothpaste in the bathroom_ or _we ran out of potato chips, can one of you run to the convenience store real quick, I’m dying of munchies_. Yellow for things with more urgency, but were otherwise unlikely to cause actual panic or mental distress, like _i need the room for the afternoon, do not return _or _there’s a huge fucking spider in the shower, one of you get your boyfriends to come kill this thing_. And finally, red for legitimate crises, somewhere along the lines of _guys, I’m being stalked by some creep outside our building, please come help, this is an SOS!!11_

“Oh, fuck off. This is _at most _a yellow. And hey, I need this after you two decided to post my nudes all over instagram.”

“It wasn’t even a proper nude. Guys on Grindr won’t jerk off to a face, even if it _was_ pretty.” Isak’s gross foot started nudging at Lucas’s hip, and Lucas shoved it away with his elbow. Fucking asshole. “I did like the touch of sex hair, though. Very artsy. You took that in Ibiza?”

Lucas, in fact, did _not_ take that in Ibiza last summer where he spent a one-week vacation with his _lycée_ friends, but with—

“He took it with Paulo_,_” Matteo sighed. He handed the blunt back to Isak, which the latter happily accepted. “It was during Lucas’s hot-for-a-hookup phase. Sadly, that lasted all of two weeks.”

Isak sat up a little as he took another hit, cocking a judging eyebrow at Lucas. “Really? _That_ guy is your shining example of ’refined’ tastes? For your information, he left his dirty fucking underwear on _my _pillow and I’ve never heard so much as a knock on our door to try and get it back. Pretty disgusting.”

“Well, he’s gone and fucked off back to Barcelona now, so,” Lucas said, shrugging as he inhaled the smoke steadily wafting in delicate tendrils around them. 

Yeah, Lucas agreed, Paulo _was _disgusting - as in, disgustingly good in bed. His two-time hook-up from a semester ago, an exchange student from Barcelona, was good at two things: making Lucas’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he sucked him dry, and pissing off Isak ’til kingdom come for that _one_ time he accidentally left his cum-covered black briefs on Isak’s white-as-snow pillow. Isak, he surmised, never really forgave either him or Paulo for that.

Lucas allowed himself to be pleasantly assaulted with a distant memory of Paulo plowing into him from behind. He doubted he’d ever get any better sex than that this semester, what with Paulo being gone and all. He didn’t even really care that he was probably just another fuck point tally on Paulo’s bulletin board of foreign student lays.

He hadn’t even gone to the last two parties he’d been invited to, being knee-deep in term papers and research - and for his non-existent dating life, parties _were_ crucial since this was the avenue to meet all potential hook-ups. For one, it was where he and Paulo met.

He didn’t know how Isak - and most especially Matteo, who radiated sloth energy and had the enthusiasm level of a potato -had all the time to keep up with their growing social calendar. They were all in the Science track at Uni, him being in Biochemistry, Isak in Nuclear Physics, and Matteo in Robotics Engineering. They were all supposed to be busy as fuck - supposed to being the keywords.

Maybe being in committed relationships _did_ help.

Isak had been with his guy since highschool. They were a classic case of highschool sweethearts, except they _didn’t_ break up and were still going strong four years into their relationship. Isak claimed it was just by some stroke of fate that he and his boyfriend ended up at the same University, not that Isak planned any of it since knowing Even's Uni acceptance, nope.

From the few times he’d catch Even eating breakfast in their room (after Isak paid off him and Matteo to go “fuck off and go sleep at a 24/7 McDonald’s because I _need_ the room, this is a yellow of the highest order, thank you very much.”), Even was sweet - maybe even too sweet for his irritable bitch of a roommate, honestly - and a bit puzzling. He always looked like the sun shone out of his ass. It grated on Lucas’s nerves, because how the hell could anyone be that pollyanna after sleeping with Isak, of all people.

Matteo, god knows how he did it, got himself a boyfriend a semester into his freshman year, another syrupy sweet guy by the name of David. At around Matteo’s height, he was only a little taller than Lucas (unlike Even, who towered over him), with jet black curls falling over his eyes, but he was so charming it was hard _not_ to like him. He’d seen even less of David than Even, but David was another one of those who smiled way too much no matter the time of day or the mood of the room, and made Lucas laugh with one too many stupid jokes he probably nicked off some corner of twitter. Matteo seriously got lucky.

Speaking of parties, their phones suddenly began pinging at the same time. Isak and Matteo’s heads simultaneously went down.

Lucas groaned, massaging the bridge of his nose. “God, please tell me this isn’t anyone else commenting on your stupid instagram posts.”

Isak looked up from his phone, chucking the joint into the small trashcan near their shared study table. “Nope. Party at Alex’s. You guys in? Even’s already there.”

Alex was one of the few frat guys Lucas got on with. He was cool, if a bit of a dudebro, the kind that considered kegstands to be everyday, normal activities. Lucas had taken a Political Science elective with him and Alex was nice enough to lend him his notes when he was down with the flu for about a week, so he was more than alright in his book.

Matteo sat up slowly, gaze still fixed at his phone. “David, too. He’s on his way. He says he got invited by one of the guys from his Art History lecture.”

Isak was already up and slipping into his Nikes, moving way too quickly for Lucas to keep up with. “Get up, fuckers. Seems like this’ll be fun. And who knows, maybe we’ll _finally_ get Lucas to shut up about wanting a boyfriend.”

Matteo grinned impishly. “Maybe we can solicit a few boyfriend applications.”

Lucas can practically hear the gears in Isak’s head turning. When he grinned back at Matteo, his tone was devilish. “If we work together, Florenzi, anything is possible.”

“What did I do in my past life to deserve you two,” Lucas moaned.

.

The red lights in the Alpha Kappa house lit the entire room and the beat of the music was already vibrating through his body. Isak stood just ahead of him, every so often craning his neck to peer somewhere near the vicinity of the kitchen. Matteo was behind him, clutching at David’s hand.

When they’d settled in and Isak had gone god knows where to find Even (it’s unsurprisingly easy; Even’s gigantic self was hard to miss in a crowd), and Matteo had gone to get them drinks, David sidled up to him with a smile on his boyish face.

David, bless him, was nice enough to reassure Lucas that the photo Matteo posted of him was “very hot.”

“Uh, thanks, dude,” he’d said, clearing his throat and trying not to let heat creep up his neck. “Not that I’m not flattered, but maybe that’s not something Matteo would like to hear. Ever.”

David beamed at him, leaning close like he was imparting a little secret. “Oh, don’t worry. We’ve talked about it, and if it was a fuck-or-die situation and we had to choose either you or Isak, we would definitely choose you! Isak’s too gangly for either of us.”

Lucas really didn’t know what to say to that, except, “Umm. Okay?”

“Anyway, my friend’s texted. He’s somewhere near the DJ booth. I wanna introduce you to him,” he’d said, lightly grasping Lucas’s elbow. “You’ll like him, I think. He’s a nice guy. I’d describe him as a bit of furry, but a sweet one.”

Lucas’s face fell. “A… furry?”

David laughed. “No, not in the way you’re thinking, I promise. He’s very in tune with, like, spirit animals and stuff. He’s into all of that and it shows in his art. Come to think of it, I think Even knows him, too.”

“Great. Now I get Even _and _you _and_ your boyfriends trying to set me up. Thank god for friends like these,” Lucas said, rolling his eyes.

“Lighten up, Lucas.” And here was Isak now, with a smiling Even in tow. Why do his roommates’ boyfriends have to be damn happy all the time? “Must you always act like you have a stick up your ass? Or rather, can’t you forget it’s there for one night?”

“Fuck off, Isak,” Lucas snapped under his breath, but turned to Even with a small smile. He raised his fist to bump with Even’s. “Hey, dude.”

“Hey yourself, man,” Even said warmly. He bumped fists with David as well, before turning back to Lucas. “You okay? You don’t look like you’re having much fun.”

“I’m just peachy, ‘cept _some _people are trying to set me up yet again when they could just let me live in peace,” he mumbled.

Matteo returned with their drinks, handing a 6-pack of cold beers to David and Even. In his other hand was a medium-sized glass with dark liquid, filled to the brim. He handed it to Lucas. “This is for you. All jack, no coke, just how you like it.”

Normally, he wouldn’t be up to take a whole ass drinking glass of hard alcohol into his system without some kind of preparation. Like actual food, for one. _But eh, what the hell_. He shrugged and took the proferred glass without much fanfare, downing roughtly half in one go. The liquid burned all the way down his esophagus and settled into an uneasy sort of weight in his gut. Almost immediately, his vision skewed a little to the side and his limbs felt weightless. Now _this_ was how he liked his alcohol - strong, punchy, and with the potential to give him a minor heart attack.

Speaking of minor heart attacks, someone - very hot and very much out of his league - was coming towards their motley little group. Someone he didn't know now, but would _definitely love_ to get to know later. Preferably with no clothes on, if he should be so lucky.

“Eliott!” David said, bringing hot dude into a one-armed hug. Hot dude gracefully crouched down to return the hug, not looking awkward at all as he did so, which was just unfair. “Hey, thanks for the invite. This is my boyfriend, Matteo. And these are our friends. Isak, Lucas. They’re Matteo’s roommates. And I think you know Even?”

“Hi, nice to meet you guys,” hot dude said. He held a Corona in his free hand, a cigarette tucked in his ear. He was the picture of effortless cool, and _shit_, even his voice sounded nice. “And nice to see you again, Even.”

“You too, Eli. Been quite a while, huh,” Even said, high-fiving hot dude. Lucas almost whined at the sight; he’d never wished to be Even’s palm or David’s arm so much than at that very moment. “Glad to see you back on campus.”

“Yeah, well. The semester abroad did me good.” Hot guy’s eyes crinkled into little moons, and Lucas barely resisted a dreamy sigh.

“I heard through the grapevine you and Lucille broke it off while you were abroad. Sorry for the loss, man. But hey, we’re here to have fun, right? Maybe meet someone new,” Even said with a sympathetic smile.

Lucas’s ears perked up. Isak seemed to notice his interest, nudging his side none-too-subtly; Lucas kicked his ankle in retaliation. 

Hot dude didn’t look sorry at all. Instead, a radiant smile lit his entire face up, his voice warming over. “It’s okay. We both knew it was time, things just weren’t working out like they used to. She’s dating now, last I heard.”

Lucas didn’t know if he was imagining it, but hot dude was checking him out, too. He felt intense blue-gray eyes raking over him, giving him a once-over. Then one more for good measure.

“But I’m really happy to be back. Seems I’ve missed a lot of the goings-on lately.”

He took a sip of his beer, his eyes drifting back to Lucas.

He was _not _imagining it.

He suddenly felt self-conscious; did he look okay? He thought he looked okay when he walked out the door wearing a nicer-than-usual denim shirt and black skinny jeans, but maybe he was overestimating himself. And some people weren’t into small brunettes with sharp noses like him, but - yeah. He was overthinking.

The song changed to a bass-heavy remix of Robyn’s _Call Your Girlfriend_, which Lucas happened to know was one of Isak and Even’s forever favorites, a staple in their roadtrip playlists. True to form, Even wasted no time in excusing himself and Isak as he half-dragged Isak to the dance floor. For a moment, Lucas watched their bodies slot together, heaving, sweaty, and undulating with the masses, like two parts of the back of some great beast.

“Anyway, we’re off to find Mia and Kiki,” Matteo said, eyes glued to his phone. He turned to the general direction of the kitchens. “They’re somewhere around the drinks table, so.”

“See you guys later,” David called out before they disappeared into the thick of the crowd.

It took Lucas a few moments to realize his roommates and their boyfriends had just left him with a walking wet dream.

“So, uh,” Lucas started, cheeks starting to heat.

“Seems like my plan wasn’t that well thought out,” Hot guy - Eliott - said. “I thought I could bring you a drink as an excuse to talk to you, but you already had one.” He gestured to Lucas’s half-empty glass. “So I guess I have this bottle all to myself. It’s good they left, though. Now I get the chance to actually talk to you.”

Lucas, surprised, took a moment to reply. He settled for an elegant “What?”

Eliott just laughed, eyes meeting Lucas’s and sending a shiver up his spine. “I saw you with David earlier.” As if that was enough of an explanation.

Lucas felt emboldened, strangely enough. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the heat in Eliott’s gaze. “David told me you were a furry.”

Apparently, he lost his flirting game when actual demi-gods were in front of him. Paulo and his other hook-ups had been okay, but not like _this_, so who could blame him? As soon as he said it, he regretted it. He waited for the look of abject offense to cross Eliott’s features, but it never came.

Eliott (soft, sensual) mouth curled into an attractive smirk. He looked like he wanted to eat Lucas alive. “And what else did he tell you?”

Lucas blinked, and slowly smiled back. He felt brave, drunk on victory and the way Eliott kept looking at him. He downed the rest of his shot and looked up at Eliott. “You’ll have to pry it out of me.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Eliott leaned in closer. “Honestly, it kills me to just stand here doing nothing when you look like you need me to wreck you. You’ve looked like that since I first saw you walk into the room, actually.”

“Fuck,” Lucas muttered, going up his tiptoes to close the gap between them. He kissed him, hard enough to bruise Eliott’s lower lip. It was sloppy and uncoordinated, no finesse to it. The room spun, and a rainbow of colors danced on Eliott's face when he pulled away.

As he and Eliott walked briskly to Eliott’s dorm (a solo room, the lucky bastard), he quickly punched a text to Isak and Matteo.

_Out for the rest of the night._

He hesitated, but still sent follow-up text as the expanse of Eliott’s naked back slowly revealed itself to his hungry, waiting eyes.

_If I don’t come back by noon, let the records show that Eliott Demaury’s murdered me and I most likely died happy._

.

There was always a tiny bit of frustration from transient sexual encounters. They were often stripped of true intimacy. There were so many boys who hit on him, blatantly wanted to hook up with him, and then never speak to him again.

Sure, hooking up Eliott was… nice.

Okay, who was he kidding. Truth was, it was fucking amazing. Eliott fucked liked he flirted: all-consuming, surprising, and intense. Eliott had a talent for eating ass and fingering him until he came, muffling his loud half-sobs, half-groans into the pillow as drool leaked out at the corner of his swollen mouth. And they hadn’t even gotten to the part where Eliott’s dick would _actually_ be anywhere near the vicinity of his nether regions. He was just that good.

“Wow, I should’ve known a pretty face like yours would be so depraved,” Eliott had said teasingly, the finger that was just in his ass slipping into his mouth. He sucked into it with gusto. Lucas was suddenly thankful he had showered thoroughly before going to the party, just in case.

“You’re… you’re a lot. I didn’t—“ Lucas had wanted to say, but it came out as protracted groan when Eliott pressed a series of kittenish licks to his hole. He turned his head to the side, caught a glimpse of Eliott’s face - earnest, fascinated, and a bit awestruck.

Lucas didn’t know what he did to deserve that look.

Despite the three rounds of mind-blowing sex, and Eliott tenderly spooning him from behind, like an actual gentleman - he was far from the naive, bordering on pathetically idealistic baby homo he used to be. Eliott was the type of guy who probably didn’t even need to use dating apps or be anonymous. He was the type of guy whose dorm neighbors would sigh and go “great, not again” when they heard bed creaks and laughter from behind his door at any time of the day.

Once upon a time, Lucas fancied himself a romantic at heart. But now, he knew better.

It was never any different than the last time.

With great reluctance, he pulled himself from Eliott’s embrace at approximately 10AM. He willed himself not to stare at Eliott’s peaceful sleeping face. He looked younger when he slept. Not that he felt completely devoid of horniness in the morning, but just looking at the sunlight hitting Eliott’s hair and casting a glow on his handsome face did _things_ to Lucas that he’d rather not think about.

He had to get out of there.

Slipping into his briefs, jeans, and crumpled button-up, he crept towards the front door and resisted the urge to look back.

.

“And there he is,” Isak declared blithely the moment he walked into the room, fresh from his walk of shame. Perched atop the counter and eating a bowl of cereal, he looked like a canary who’d swallowed a mouthful of cream. “Had a good night?”

Lucas sighed, running a hand through his hair. He tilted his chin at the cereal. “I guess. Are there any more of those?”

“Help yourself. Matteo’s at David’s so he won’t be getting that. There’s at least enough for a bowl.” Isak frowned. “For someone who just had sex for the first time in months, you don’t look so happy. Was he a bad lay?”

He internally debated whether he wanted to engage so early in the morning. He supposed he could let a few things slip. “No. He was fine. Maybe too fine.”

Isak perked up, then lowered his gaze curiously. “Okay, so what’s the problem? Did he have, like, webbed toes or something?”

“Webbed toes, really? That’s the best defect you can come up with?”

Isak shrugged. “The other one was he’s secretly married with a kid, but I figured that’d be too farfetched.”

“Your imagination astounds me. Don't know why you aren't in Creative Writing.”

Isak plunked his bowl down the sink, hopping from the counter and plucking out an envelope from the top of the fridge. “I wish I imagined this thing, but alas. Someone slipped this through the front door. It’s for you.” He smirked, and Lucas had a sinking feeling. “Trust me. You’d be _very _interested to read this.”

Lucas grabbed the envelope and slowly took out the folded letter with trembling fingers. Was it a letter from his Mom? Or worse, his Dad? 

His eyes went wide, jaw going slack with shock. It wasn’t a letter from his either of his parents. It was—“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Isak cackled. “See, I told you instagram ads worked.”

Lucas could barely read past the first paragraph. “This can’t be real. It just can’t be.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Isak tsked.

.


	2. peak cancer culture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- so. this part ended up being too damn long, hence the split into another chapter. err, i truly didn't mean for this fic to get as long as it did. it just went out of control tbh. i swear we are ending on part 3, coming very soon!  
\- this part is v. much 'lucas freaking out/ruminating on his past'-heavy and also attempts to explain the constant zodiac references hhhhh no zodiacs were harmed in the making of this... thing. enjoy!

To say Lucas was shook was an understatement. It felt akin to starting his day just poking around for some no-frills clips of amateur couples making out tenderly on tumblr, _ho-hum_ \- but then easily and rapidly sliding into footage of two bears simultaneously working their behinds on opposing ends of a double-sided dildo. Unlike pornhub pop-ups though, he couldn’t chalk this up to accident.

The letter was very much real and staring up at him, almost mocking. _Go on, read me again. Or throw me in the trash. You can get me out of sight, but never out of mind._

Even had come in to their dorm somewhere between Isak cheerfully letting Lucas know he’d let him have his mini-meltdown in peace, flopping down the couch to check out the new Breaking Bad movie trailer on Netflix, and Lucas pacing the floor ranting about bad jokes in the morning and _I thought Cancer season was supposed to be my season, universe, what the fuck?!_

Even squinted at them in confusion. “Cancer season?”

“Hey, babe.” Isak tilted his head up and accepted Even’s kiss. Lucas felt like gagging what little cereal he previously ingested; he sat down on one of the small dining stools instead to try and calm his nerves. “Don’t mind Lucas. He’s just way too into astrology than any reasonable man of science should be.”

Even chuckled. “Hey, don’t come for astrology like that. Lucas may be onto something. I heard Geminis are lucky.”

“Well, they got that bit right.” Isak grinned, his eyes flickering into something darker. “I’m the luckiest because I have you.”

“For the love of god, please stop doing whatever twisted version of foreplay this is or I will end you both,” Lucas snapped. He knew he had to get this out before Isak and Even got their grubby paws on each other. There was no getting in between them once they started getting in the mood.

“Sorry,” Even said, sounding genuinely contrite. And he should be, Lucas thought. He was repping all the single people in the room, a good and respectable one-third of the occupants. Really, why did Matteo have to go fuck up the majority by getting himself a boyfriend. “We’ll be keeping it PG.”

“Lucas, seriously. Get out and… I dunno,” Isak said, waving vaguely at the door, “self-destruct in the library. Go day drinking, whatever. Not sure about the beer, but mimosas are 50 off at the bar before 12 noon.”

“How about no.” Lucas rolled his eyes, knowing Isak just wanted to up the rating, so to speak, the horny bastard. No way was he getting out of the room now. Where would he even go? Worse, what if he ran into _him _in the corridors? Granted, Eliott’s dorm was about two buildings away, but he didn’t want to underestimate how much more he might potentially be fucked over today.

Isak gave him a _look._ “This is a yellow.”

Lucas glared. “Well, mine is a red, so suck it.”

“Here’s a thought. Why don’t you ask about everyone else’s feelings first, or how their night went, before plunging into your emotional crisis?”

Lucas didn’t back down.

Isak stared at him for a moment, then huffed in resignation. “Fine.”

“What’s going on?” Even raised an amused brow, looking like a VIP spectator to the most interesting table tennis match in the world.

Isak hummed, leaning into Even. “Lucas is having his monthly personal crisis.”

“Oh.” Even pursed his lips in thought. “Is this like the time he accidentally put a red shirt in with your whites and turned everything pink?”

“Wha—“ Lucas began.

“No.” Isak sighed, long-suffering. “It’s not an ‘I’m a dumb fuck who can’t function’ kind of crisis, it’s a ‘hot guy wants to be my boyfriend and I don’t know how to deal’ crisis. Though, if you think about it, it’s a bit of both.”

“I’m right here,” Lucas spluttered indignantly. 

Isak made a face at Lucas making a face. “Dude, so unnattractive. Eliott sent you the letter then probably regretted his life choices like, three minutes later.”

Even sat up straighter. “Eliott? Demaury? Tall, messy hair, fuck me eyes Eliott? Saw him yesterday Eliott?”

“The very same,” Isak confirmed.

Lucas didn’t need to be reminded, but the memory of Eliott’s broad shoulders, piercing eyes, and talented tongue entered his mind; he tried to shake it off before either Isak or Even could notice he’d started to feel a little hot under the collar.

“You remember the IG posts we did? We didn’t think anyone would _actually _take it seriously, ‘cos you know Lucas has zero game around guys he likes—“

“Wow, I can really feel your overflowing moral support over here. What the fuck happened to roommate solidarity?”

“See, just look at that.” Isak shook his head. “So snippy, so bitchy. No wonder your dramatic ass can’t get a date.”

“I so can, and I don’t need your stupid instagram post to do it,” Lucas bit out.

“I don’t think one-night stands count, Lulu,” Even teased even as he shot Lucas a sympathetic smile.

Lucas groaned. “Not you, too! I don’t need Isak _and _you dogpiling me into the pits.”

“Don’t leave out Matteo.” Oh yeah, because he loved seeing Lucas suffer just as much as Isak; he was just a little more subtle about it, due to, y’know, being literally half-dead to the world on most days.

“Ughhh,” he said, squirming from his position on the stool. He put his head in his hands, and made a noise like a cat choking on a particularly large furball.

“I think he’s seriously freaking out, kjære,” Even’s concerned voice floated from the couch.

“Even, freaking out is like Lucas’s default factory settings. Let him be.”

“I’m not freaking out,” Lucas breathed, looking up. His eyes were a little wild, his hair sticking up in all directions like an electrocuted baby chick. “Isn’t it totally normal to think this is some sort of sick prank?_”_

Even looked like he wanted to hug him. “Lucas, mon chéri**.**”

Normally, Lucas would guffaw and tell him to shove it because Even’s rough Norwegian-accented English mangled his mother tongue like no one’s business. He suspected Even partly did it to annoy Isak enough into having angry sex with him. Not that Lucas appreciated being a prop for their sex life, but hey, anything that pissed Isak off was fine in his book.

Even’s brows were drawn together, genuine worry painting his handsome face. He looked so earnest that Lucas bit back his typical retort. Okay, so he did have a soft spot for Even, what about it? “It’s gonna be okay. Sure, it’s kinda cheesy… and probably unnecessary, since he could’ve just asked you out in person.” Even scratched the back of his neck, looking thoughtful. “But that’s totally Eliott’s brand. So I don’t think it’s a prank. He’s not the type to even think of doing that to anyone.”

“His _brand_?” Lucas said weakly.

“Well, he’s a sweet guy—“

“He wasn’t ‘sweet’ yesterday when he looked like he wanted to eat Lucas’s face off,” Isak pointed out, not inaccurately.

“No, really. I met him last year in my World Cinema class; we were partnered for a project so we got to talking. Eliott’s actually cool. Bit withdrawn and shy, but nice to everyone. Never heard a mean comment from him about anything, even when the Prof was giving us all hell.So many girls were all over him, a few guys, too.”

“Even, are you actually talking about yourself?” Isak said dryly.

Even ignored the comment. “But he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t advertise how damn hot he really is. Maybe he doesn’t even know it. I figured he did it ‘cos he was attached at the time to his long-distance girlfriend.”

“He’s bi?”

“Pan, actually.”

“You _are_ talking about yourself.” Isak lightly punched Even on the arm.

Lucas hazily recalled the ex girlfriend’s name from the previous night, but it wasn’t popping into his head. He was way too preoccupied at Even basically telling him Eliott was God’s perfect child, created from all things good and heavenly. _Fuck._

_“_— Anyway, the whole low-key thing’s just his whole vibe. I remember we had drinks on his birthday and he only invited two other people.”

“Wait. Was this the time Idriss threw up at a Starbucks? Last June?” Isak said.

Lucas’s head snapped up. “June? He’s a Cancer?”

Both of Even’s eyebrows shot up. “Err, it was the latter half of June?”

“Shit, he _is_ a Cancer.”

“Is that… important?” Getting no answers forthcoming from Lucas, Even turned to Isak, who rolled his eyes.

“What? Lucas is minoring in Divination, didn’t you know? I reckon he’ll be getting his MA in Horoscope Interpration after graduation — _ow_, _motherfu_— Lucas, what the fuck, this was a good shirt, damnit!”

.

Contrary to his roommates’ beliefs, Lucas wasn’t really into the business of hooking up. He could count on one hand all his previous dalliances, all beginning when he was sixteen and had just come out of the closet. A freshly plucked from the fields baby gay, as his highscool roommate-slash-“gay guru” Mika liked to say, ready to sow his own wild oats out into the perilous world of gay bars and dating apps.

Mika painstakingly taught him how to navigate the strange, almost alien language that was common parlance in _their_ world.

_“Mika,” he called out, idly scrolling up. “What does actif ou passif mean?”_

_“Oh, that’s one of the basics, kitten. He’s asking whether you’d want to do the pounding or you’re the one who wants be pounded.”_

_“Ugh, graphic. But thanks, I guess.” He looked back at his screen as a new message popped up. “What’s TTBM? Some guy messaged me saying I’d look good on a TTBM?”_

_“What!” Mika yelped. “No, no, kitten. Don’t even risk it. You won’t be able to walk the next day.”_

_He blanched._

Lucas had deleted the app the next day, reinstalled it a few weeks later, then deleted again. He never met any of the many, many boys and men who messaged him, his interest waxing and waning and ultimately fading when he realized pictures of naked torsos and angry red cocks just weren’t doing it for him.

He supposed his family problems at the time contributed to his lack of libido. With his Dad newly shacked up with a younger girlfriend, and his Mom in a psych ward, he didn’t have the energy to go on dates, let alone have the drive to take anyone home.

He was lucky to have understanding friends - Basile, Arthur, and especially Yann, whom he used to think must be the love of his life. That went away pretty fast once it became clear that Yann would never cross over to his side of the fence no matter how much he tried to make him love him the way he wanted.

.

He and his mom reconciled just before his seventeenth birthday. He remembered it clear as day: him tearfully telling her he was gay as he held her pale hands and refused to look up, afraid of the rejection, failure, and disappointment that he was sure was in her eyes.

Instead, she’d placed a gentle finger on his chin and tilted his head up to meet her gaze. Her eyes were bright and full of love.

“Baby. My Lucas,” she’d said, and Lucas felt his own tears flow faster. She cradled his face, wiping his tears with her thumb. “From the moment you were born and I held you in my arms, you’ve been my beautiful boy. I loved you then. I love you now. And I’ll love you forever.”

“Mom, I—“ he’d choked out, throat raw and tight. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited in so long. I love you, too.”

She took him into the circle of her arms. For the first time in his years of living independently from his parents, nearly legally emancipated, Lucas felt warm all over and impossibly young.

.

After going through this tumultuous period, it didn’t take him long to find his first - and so far, only - boyfriend.

Julien was a only a year older, but the way he put the moves on Lucas spoke of experience well beyond his years. They met, as most would be couples were wont to do in lycée, at a house party.

Lucas remembered Julien walking up to him and brazenly asking if he would like to dance. He remembered Julien’s strong hands gripping his waist as if Lucas was already his, the feeling of a boy as rakishly handsome wanting him, so much that it made him dizzy with both disbelief and arousal.

He knew he looked good… to a certain section of the population. When he was still laboring under the delusion of heterosexuality, he had a near perfect record of girls trying to get with him at parties. Basile would constantly moan and groan why he was always the target of female affection when he didn’t even look like he gave a fuck. He would shrug and say, “Whatever,” and it was the truth. He didn’t care.

But this, with boys, he felt more than a little unsure. What did guys like? Sure, his particular brand of looks had a market - he was small, not too much to be considered waifish, but his build was naturally lean. His face, both sharp and soft, was once described as “unusually pretty” by some drunk guy sending him selfies on Tinder at 3AM; he didn’t know if that was a real compliment. He couldn’t grow more than a struggle stache, and this was after three weeks of not shaving, so he left his face smooth and boyish.

However, a cursory review on Grindr told him guys liked muscular, tall, and hairy. So where did that leave him?

Julien had whispered then, low and dirty, pressing Lucas’s sweaty back flush against his chest, “You’re fucking beautiful,” and Lucas was a goner.

Julien was his first. First real love, first kiss, first fuck, first heartbreak. When they broke up after five months, it was because was Lucas was “overly suspicious” or “too moody” and Julien had “walked on eggshells” around him too long. He claimed to be afraid of hurting Lucas's feelings everytime he'd be out with friends and didn’t tell Lucas, or would drink himself to a blackout without letting Lucas know he was passed out on some dirty sidewalk.

In what was maybe the most damaging blow to Lucas’s ego, Julien also told him he felt more like a parent than a boyfriend. “If I wanted to fuck my mom, Lucas, you’d know about it,” he’d spat out, cruelly. Lucas, feeling like the rug had just been pulled under his feet, screamed at him to get the hell out, and that was that.

When he’d shown up to Daphne’s common room meeting two days after their breakup, he couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped from his traitorous throat when Imane, noticing the dark lines under his eyes, asked him if he was okay.

Later, nestled in Manon’s arms, Alexia massaging his fingers comfortingly, Daphne had asked him what his sign was.

“Cancer,” he’d mumbled absently, feeling like he was about to pass out.

“Ah. Julien’s a Cancer, too,” Daphne said knowingly, as if that explained everything.

“He doesn’t need that nonsense right now,” Imane snapped.

“No. Go on,” he’d said hoarsely, surprising even himself. “What do you mean?”

“W-well,” Daphne began sheepishly, chastised by Imane’s warning look, but ultimately continuing when Lucas looked at her expectantly, “it’s just, two Cancers together aren’t a great match. You’re both sensitive, you both care a lot, sometimes too much. You try to fix the other person’s issues, and you end up smothering each other.”

“… That’s dumb,” Emma had snorted, crossing her arms.

“It’s not!”

Manon sighed. “Daphy, just because you read it in Teen Vogue or Cosmo doesn’t mean it has any basis in fact.”

Daphne sniffed defensively. “Well, it doesn’t hurt to take certain precautions against signs you’re incompatible with.”

Maybe it was his vulnerable state of mind, or maybe he was trying to see why the breakup happened at a time when he wasn’t ready to fully process everything. Thinking about how overwhelmingly important it was to pick the right person was like thinking about how huge the universe was or how terrifying death really was - too intense to internalize the reality of it. But unlike death and the universe’s size, picking a boyfriend was fully in his control, so it was critical to thoroughly analyze the most important factors in making the decision.

Simply put, what Daphne said made a lot of sense to Lucas.

Julien wasn’t the problem, it was his sign.

It just wasn’t written in the stars, is all.

.

A few months later, he’d gone on one date with a Capricorn upon Basile’s urging. In hindsight, he should’ve been more skeptical; it was _Baz’s _recommendation, after all.

Judging by Cartier cufflinks and impeccably groomed midnight black hair, he got the impression the guy was more well-off than Baz let on. It went well enough - until Lucas felt himself thoroughly turned off when the guy spent almost an hour yelling at customer service over a small charge that didn’t get refunded anyway, acting like a horrible tyrant to almost the entire wait staff about how _right_ he was.

Lucas had excused himself near the tail-end of his date’s rant, “going to the bathroom” being code for “getting the hell out of here.”

After finishing his Bac and securing his entrance to the University of Amsterdam, he had a brief summer fling with a tall, tanned, Taurus boy - Lucas called him TTT whenever Yann and Arthur egged him to divulge about the guy.

They met during his solo two week-long trip to Plage de Palombaggia just before entering University. He saw TTT standing shirtless on one of the enormous red granite rocks lining up the shore; he’d blushed and dug his feet into the soft, fine sand when the other boy caught his eye and smiled, all pink gums and blindingly white teeth.

It was so easy, at the time, to be with TTT. His lips had tasted salty from the water, whenever he ran his tongue over them. He’d held Lucas tenderly when he woke up one night from a nightmare - he didn’t remember what it was about exactly; but he’d been plagued with anxiety the last few weeks about being absolutely shit at living in a foreign country and completely fucking up in University, and maybe dying penniless in the street, birds picking on his sad remains, then deeming it too much of a failure even for their tastes.

“Sorry,” Lucas had laughed then, but it was a broken sound, like a scratched record skipping beats.

“Ssshh, querido, hey, I’m here, I’m here,” he’d said soothingly, and Lucas felt so precious and valued and adored, and it made Lucas _ache_ to know that this would all be over in a few days.

“Please don’t leave,” Lucas had whispered, his words muffled against the other boy’s sunkissed shoulder, burrowing into the warmth.

“Lucas, you know that’s not possible,” he’d said, offering him a smile, a little bit sad around the edges. The cadence of his voice reminded Lucas of the sea at night, the rippling waves reflecting moonlight. “But you’re a gem. I envy the boy who gets to keep you forever, and that’s not me.”

Lucas had cried and cried when he left the summer villa. He cried again when he thought of him on the plane back to Brazil.

They promised to keep in touch.

They didn’t.

.

Their first week together, they’d all been mostly quiet, warily assessing the other two. Cautious, overly polite, tiptoeing around each other.

Until, that is, their first movie night. Which happened entirely by accident.

Lucas had bought an entire 14-inch pizza that night all to himself, planning to stress-eat his fatigue away. He had two projects and three papers due next week, and on top of that, a girl at his part-time library assistant job was relentlessly hitting on him, not getting the hint that he was as gay as they came.

The situation was so frustrating he’d even contemplated dressing in drag and making out with the next guy - any guy - that checked a book out. Unfortunately, he was sure he’d make an ugly girl, and what if a literal neanderthal came up this desk? Or worse, his roommate’s boyfriend? He’d much rather the ground swallow him up whole. 

His roommates were already settled onto the couch once he got there in a t-shirt two sizes too big and ratty boxer shorts. If he wasn’t so tired, he’d probably be embarrassed. At this point though, he was too exhausted to put up too much of a fuss.

“I thought you guys were going out,” he blurted instead, genuinely curious. He dumped the pizza on the table. “Is that— are you guys watching…”

“Moulin Rouge,” Matteo said dispassionately, head propped up on one hand on the couch’s arm. He pointed to Isak. “It was his idea.”

“No, it was _Even’s _idea,” Isak corrected. “He had to leave, though. Something about forgetting he had a birthday dinner to attend with some guy from his Cinema elective.”

“Oh,” Lucas said, separating the pizza into even slices as he settled onto the couch. Matteo, bless his sober self for once, helped him spread out the hot sauce.

“Is David joining us?” At this time, Matteo had just began seeing David, though they weren’t officially together yet. He’d only brought David back to the dorm one time, and it was enough for Lucas to decide he was alright. More than alright, really.

“Studying,” Matteo grumbled, pulling a face as he slathered what was probably three packets’ worth of sauce on his pizza slice. “Already tried to invite him, but he’s got an exam on Monday.”

“Okay.” Lucas deflated a little because, hey, David was funny and Even was a sweetheart. He wouldn’t mind having them for company. He took a big bite of his pizza, half-focused on the movie. He’d seen it before and he tracked the plot with half an ear, preferring to snicker at Isak’s muttered commentary - _so cheesy, who does that, now that’s just stupid, they don’t even play the songs straight through - _and fighting over the last sauce packet with Matteo.

“Christian is such a dumb romantic. Kinda like someone I know,” Isak sighed. “No wonder he likes this so much.”

Now Lucas didn’t know much about Even, but he liked what little he’d seen.

“So what you’re saying is, you don’t like your boyfriend being romantic?” He frowned, eyeing Isak with more than a little judgment.

Isak returned the look from the corner of his eye, unmoving from his splayed out position. “‘Course I do.” He sighed again, but it was fond. “Guess that makes me kinda dumb, too.”

“You finally admit it,” Matteo cut in with a vicious snicker.

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll have your day of stupidity too when you get your guy,” Isak muttered, hitting Matteo’s thigh with a throw pillow. “Speaking of, how are things with David?”

At the mention of David, Matteo’s lips quirked up in a small, wry smile. “Good. Really good.”

Lucas snort-laughed. “He means you better get your noise-cancelling headphones on soon. Maybe in two to three weeks?”

“… Maybe less.”

Isak whooped, smile up to his ears. Despite Satine dying on cue in Christian’s arms, the atmosphere around their room had never felt more alive.

Lucas gasped, mock-scandalized. He suddenly felt awake, and a little warmer than before. “You _animal_!”

.

When he entered University, he made a pact with himself to shed the skin of teenage naivete. He was nineteen now, going on twenty soon, and he’d realized love was inherently an incalculable game — its playing board rocky, uncharted, and completely unfair. Though he wasn’t so cynical enough as to say he’d completely lost his natural optimism, believing there was still someone for everyone, or rather, somebodies for some.

For him, maybe that was a Virgo, who’d be given to organize his messy life; or a Pisces, who would ignite his imagination and dream big dreams with him. Both very compatible signs. And more importantly, gave him some semblance of control over the the entirely unpredictable business of love.

And because he’d tried to think this through with logic and reason, he’d rationalized it thusly.

Assuming he would live to about 80, when he chose a boyfriend, he’d be choosing a lot of things, including his parenting partner (if they ended up getting married and adopting) and someone who’d hold deep influence over their kids. The person sitting across him for about 20,000 meals. The person he’d sit next to on planes for about 100 vacations. His primary leisure time companion. His career sounding board. Someone whose day he’d hear about 18,000 times.

“… Knowing you’ve computed that is the single most depressing thing I’ve heard all day,” Isak had the gall to say, a few months into their tentative, proximity-induced friendship, as if he was the beacon of light and cheer in their dorm. “And we _know _Matteo, so.”

Matteo muttered something unintelligible, something about crawling over to Isak’s bed in the middle of the night and strangling him with a laptop cable. He couldn’t remember.

“Oh, piss off,” Lucas slurred, throwing a dirty sock lying on his chest - _what the fuck was it doing there -_ at Isak’s face.

This was after a memorable freshman-only party where it got so wild the house hosting the shindig almost caught on fire. The three of them had half-jogged, half-stumbled back to the dorm, clutching at each other’s clothes like kids high on sugar. Matteo had accidentally smacked strangers they passed on the way back. Isak’s long legs tripped on a crack on the pavement, giggling all the while.

They were now in varying states of intoxication and undress, lying on the floor, bed, and beanie bag, arms akimbo. Isak was shirtless for some reason. Matteo’s feet were missing one sock. As for Lucas, his skinny jeans were halfway down his knees, leaving him in his thin boxer shorts. He’d tried taking it off, found it took too much effort to push down his thighs, and gave up halfway.

He closed his eyes, feeling warmth spread through his fingers and toes.

.

Lucas had been prepared for many things. He’d been prepared to undergo the rigorous screening process to be accepted into the Biochemistry program at a University a few thousand miles away from his home city. He’d been prepared for his roommates being absolute bitches in the morning, especially when they were all sober and not undergoing some sort of collective high or hunger (well, it was really just Isak, but Matteo had his moments, he wasn’t gonna lie).

He’d even prepared to ask Even or David for Eliott’s instagram username (he didn’t dare look this up himself; he didn’t trust himself not to scream when he saw Eliott’s photos), just so he could get this over with. He’d planned to send Eliott a message, somewhere along the lines of _hi, what the fuck, you’re joking, right? I mean, look at you!_

What he’d been decidedly not been prepared for, however, was running into Eliott into one of the darkened corridors, just as he got out of one of his more difficult majors, the one that made his head feel like minced meat after every class.

“Lucas, hey,” Eliott said, sounding surprised but pleased. He looked nervous as he ran a hand through his soft-looking hair, so unlike Lucas’s own mess of a bedhead. “Did you get my… letter?”

He was totally unprepared to hear a beautiful boy saying his name in _that_ way and in _that _voice, and okay, he was going to explode on the spot, wasn’t he?

“Uh. I. Yes.” He cringed internally.

Eliott’s smile dropped when he saw Lucas’s face shift through a range of uncomfortable emotions. In that moment, he looked suddenly sheepish, almost deathly shy - an entirely different side that Lucas was unfamiliar with. This was far from the confident, bold Eliott he’d seen just a few days ago.

“I’m sorry. It was way too forward, I know. My friends tried to warn me that it was - nevermind. I’m - um. I should go now.”

Eliott’s words poured out in a quick, rambling stream, every syllable thick with acute trepidation. The uncertainty in his voice was almost laughable, because what right did someone looking like _Eliott _have to be ridiculously unsure with someone like _Lucas._

He’d understand if Eliott was looking for another one-off. That was simple enough. In the two years he’d been here, that was basically what guys who sought him out looked for, anyway. Not that he’d given them a chance - Paulo was sort of a fluke in that regard. And Eliott, too, when he’d been blown away that night by this gorgeous specimen of a human whose eyes could be harnessed as a special weapon of mass destruction.

But the letter plainly expressed real interest in being an actual boyfriend. Which meant: actual hand-holding, actual dates that didn’t end with either one of them running for the hills, and actual love.

“Um — no, don’t go,” he said hastily, before Eliott could retreat. “I mean—“ Lucas floundered a bit, only it was actually a lot. He took a deep breath to steady himself. “I read it. I just— were you joking or?”

He sort of regretted it the moment he said it as Eliott’s face registered mild offense, his brows furrowing. “Joking? Why would I joke about that?”

“I, no. Sorry, it’s just. Not that I didn’t enjoy my, uh, night with you. Far from it. It was great, would love to do it again - no, that’s not what I’m supposed to be getting at—“ Lucas inwardly prayed that God would have mercy on him and just smite him right then and there, for the mortal sin of being an absolute idiot.

“I realize the way I went about it was so formal, almost to the point of being seen as a joke,” Eliott said slowly, fixing that damnable gaze on him. Lucas almost melted on the spot. “For that, I’m sorry. But I swear. It’s not a prank.”

“Okay. Not a prank.” A blush was steadily rising on his cheeks. “But… why?”

“Why what?” Eliott tilted his head to the side, looking unfairly adorable. _Goddamnit._

“Why me?” Lucas squeaked out finally. “Not - not to mention the logistics of it. It doesn’t make sense. We only met at that party last weekend. I woke up earlier than you did because that’s just like, standard one-night stand etiquette. I got back and the letter was already there.”

Eliott laughed lightly, and now it’s him saving Lucas from his rambling. “It’s not that hard to figure out, to be honest.”

Lucas pouted, regaining a bit of his chill now that he’d gotten the _why me_ part out there. “I’m serious. About everything I asked.”

Eliott looked like he wanted to lean closer and touch him, his eyes warm and kind and drawing Lucas in. “Why don’t we go for coffee and I’ll tell you everything you wanna know? I’ve kinda been waiting for you to contact me but you never did.”

“I don’t know your number?”

Eliott bit his lip, amused. “It’s literally on the letter header.”

“… Shit.” And Lucas was now mentally going up to a cabin somewhere in the Himalayas and contemplating his idiocy. “I was too focused on the body, okay - not your body! The letter’s body. Uh. Yeah.”

Eliott smirked at him, literally a life-ending look. Lucas could be shot in the face right now and he’d die happy. “Right. So, what’d do you say about that coffee?”

“… Is this a date?”

“It could be.” Eliott grinned. “Maybe think of it as the interview proper.”

“What?”

“For the probationary period,” Eliott replied smoothly, and oh, _this_ was the Eliott he’d witnessed that night. He’d seen through Lucas’s weak protests, and was now plowing through his paper-thin defenses. “That’s how job interviews go, right? You accept them for, say, six months probationary. Then you decide if you want to make the role more permanent.”

“I… really? We’re still using this job interview metaphor?” Lucas shook his head incredulously. “That’s just something my dumbass roommates said. You didn’t have to _follow_ it.”

Eliott shrugged, easy smile never leaving his face. And what a face it was. “They were on to something. Makes anyone stand out from the pack.”

“Pack?” Lucas laughed sharply. “That would be assuming I have a pack after me, which, I assure you, I most definitely don’t.”

Eliott looked genuinely, endearingly baffled, which floored Lucas. “Really? No way. Look at you, you’re—“ and he stopped, coughing, his ears flushing red.

Shit, this guy really wanted to kill him. 

“Fine, okay. We’re going for Coffee. Lead the way.”


	3. crab mating season

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- ok, i know i said we'd be ending on part 3 but n o p e, this fic got out of control again. however, there's only so much inspiration eil4 could pump me with, so fingers crossed part 4 (the last part, swear to god) will be posted in a few days as i can't bear to let this go on any longer hhhhhh  
\- this one has more davenzi peanut gallery moments in honor of druck s4 ending!

The walk to Eliott’s recommended cafe seemed to stretch on forever. Eliott was mostly silent throughout the trek, instead politely asking about Lucas’s classes, his part-time job, and his extracurriculars. Lucas fought through the nervousness in the pit of his gut, answered in short, curt sentences, and then it was back to the somewhat awkward silence they’d established. The walk was relatively uneventful, except for—

“Wait,” Eliott suddenly stopped, his shoe scuffing light against the pavement. “You’ve got…”

Lucas nearly jerked with a gasp when Eliott’s hand reached out and swept lightly through the messy fringe of his bangs. Eliott’s thumb touched his forehead for a brief moment, grazing along his eyebrow before the soft touch of hair returned, settling more precisely than before.

“You had a leaf stuck in your hair,” Eliott explained.

“Uh,” Lucas eventually, inelegantly, emitted, the slight shock outweighing coherence.

Eliott leaned back a bit as if realizing he was way too into Lucas’s personal space. Not that Lucas minded, really, but ‘hair touching’ was a bit much for Lucas’s brain to process at the moment. “Sorry,” Eliott said calmly, biting at his lower lip. Lucas wished he wouldn’t do that when they’d sit down across each other, because it was definitely going to be distracting as all hell.

“It’s okay. Um, thanks,” Lucas breathed, ducking his head slightly to hide the infuriating blush that had grown along with how his spine had tingled at the sensation of Eliott’s touch. _Fuck, control yourself_, _you’re hardly a sixteen-year old virgin anymore._ With resolve, he pushed his feet into gear and moved away from the depth of Eliott’s gaze. “Let’s just go.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were standing in front of _Coffee Shack_. Calling it a shack was rather underselling the place, but it wouldn’t qualify as a top-tier cafe either. It was tucked into a corner, deep enough to allow for a couple of checkouts and the usual displays; the area was speckled with round tables painted a deep verdant, students with their heads buried in laptops and young couples whispering sweet nothings scattered throughout. He didn’t know if it was because Eliott was with him in the moment, but he found that the ‘coffee shop’ aesthetic of this particular cafe was more charming rather than superfluous and kitschy. 

“One of my roommates likes the coffee here, though I’ve never been,” Lucas said as he followed Eliott to their table. He had chosen a more secluded area further away from the entrance, near the windows, the corner bordered by obviously fake foliage.

“Mm, is it Even’s boyfriend? Isak, right?”

“Yeah, that one.”

Eliott chuckled as he sat, Lucas taking the seat across him. “‘That one.’ You don’t sound like you like him much.”

Lucas shrugged. “We get along when we need to.”

“Sounds like a classic case of reluctant friendship. If this was a buddy cop comedy, next thing you know you’ll be best man at his and Even’s wedding,” Eliott teased.

“Wow, that’ll truly be the day when pigs fly.”

Eliott grinned, wide and warm. “Anyway, we can talk about pigs flying later. What’ll you have? I’ll order for you.”

Lucas shook his head quickly. “Oh, no. You don’t have to. I’ll just get it myself later.”

Eliott’s hand touched his arm, and Lucas went silent with whatever argument he had poised and ready to go. “I insist. You can pay for the next one.”

Lucas blinked, slowly raising a brow. “The next one?”

“The next date,” Eliott replied simply.

“That’s assuming there _is _a next date,” Lucas huffed, finally relenting under Eliott’s _look _that meant to let him know how confident Eliott was that he’d get a next date, and another, and another. “Fine. A mocha latte, please. Almond milk and no whipped cream.”

Eliott laughed, a pleasant tinkling sound. “Healthy. I thought you’d go for something sweeter.”

Lucas looked up with a grimace. “… Please don’t turn that into a pick-up line.” Not that Eliott needed to - Lucas was pretty sure he’d already been ‘picked up’ well and good, not that Eliott needed to know.

.

It had only been ten minutes tops, but Lucas was beginning to feel an unexpected tendril of impatience. The line grew longer after their arrival, which was to be expected from a somewhat well-known student cafe. But it wasn’t the long service time nor the lines that irked Lucas. Rather, it was the people - and there were _tons_ \- who blatantly checked Eliott out, giving him brazen once-overs. A gaggle of girls in matching tight skirts were giggling and whispering behind their hands, sneaking looks at Eliott in turns. It wasn’t like Eliott was some sort of celebrity - he was just a guy, albeit an admittedly gorgeous one, but still. Just a guy.

And said guy was settling their drinks down in front of him, beaming at Lucas like he had the ability to end world hunger. 

“Are you some sort of influencer or model? Why are all these people staring at you?” Now was the best time for his foot-in-mouth syndrome to rear its ugly head. He didn’t mean for it to sound so irritated, but it was already out there. He cleared his throat, “I mean— I’m just curious.” G_reat save there, Lucas._

Eliott pursed his lips as he sat down opposite Lucas. “I model part-time to earn a little extra on the side. Small campaigns, catalog ads, nothing major. I did have the opportunity to do bigger campaigns, but I really wanted to focus on my studies so I haven’t been doing it recently. Last gig I did was more than six months ago.”

“That wasn’t in your letter,” Lucas pointed out. He’d have appreciated Eliott telling him he was a legitimate fucking model so he’d have prepared himself for all the stares and whispers. The unsolicited attention was more annoying than he anticipated.

“I didn’t think it was that relevant,” Eliott trailed off, sounding unsure.

Lucas sighed, waving a hand in dismissal. He could hear Isak in his head -_You’re overreacting, dumbass_. “It’s fine. Anyway, thank you for the coffee. I guess we’ll get, uh, started.”

He winced internally. They were really going all in on this job interview thing, huh.

Eliott, to his credit, didn’t notice Lucas looking seriously doubtful about the initial direction he’d taken the conversation in. He looked serious, nodding at Lucas. “Ask away.”

Lucas took a deep breath, steeling himself and looking at a certain point between Eliott’s eyes. He didn’t trust himself not to falter if he looked straight at Eliott, so he wouldn’t risk that. “How were you able to get the letter to the dorm if we’d only met the night before, and if I woke up earlier than you did? Did you actually sneak out and pretend to be asleep when I woke up?”

Eliott leaned back into the chair, lifting his drink and sipping casually. “I suppose this is the part where I tell you that I didn’t actually meet you at the party.”

Lucas’s eyes widened a fraction. “What? Where? I would’ve remembered you…”

He wracked his memory for any traces of Eliott before the night of the party. Did they meet in a class? He would’ve noticed him for sure. Did Eliott check out a book when he was on shift? There was no way Eliott could walk away from the checkout counter looking like _that_ and not have Lucas stare after him like a lovesick idiot. Was Eliott that random guy who held his hair back when was puking into the toilet at an earlier party? He sincerely hoped it wasn’t the last one; he really couldn’t afford to lose another shred of his dignity with this guy.

Eliott smiled wistfully. “I saw you walking down the hallways last year. You looked like you were in a hurry; you were carrying a ton of books. You said hi to Even as he was on the way to our World Cinema class. You bumped into me, you said sorry but didn’t look back. So you didn’t see me, but I saw you.” Eliott’s words weaved a warm, honeyed spell all over him. “You were all I saw, actually.”

“I…” Lucas was struck dumb after that, and could anyone blame him? A literal dreamboat just told him probably the single most romantic line he’d ever heard and they weren’t even twenty minutes into this date.

“I asked around about you. Well, really just Even at first,” Eliott continued. “I pestered him to the point where I was sure he was going to punch me, but he was supportive and encouraged me to go for it. He told me about you - how you were sweet and kind, and most of all, single and looking.”

Lucas was about to open his mouth and remark that he didn’t consider himself any of the things Even thought him to be, and that Even was probably looking at him with rose-colored glasses because of his forced proximity to Isak. “Oh jeez, Even duped you, dude. Sorry I’m not the ball of sunshine you expected, ha-ha,” he was supposed to say.

Then Eliott dropped a bombshell. “When I found out his boyfriend was your roommate, I felt like I hit the intel jackpot. He introduced me to Isak, who introduced me to Matteo, who came with David, of course—“

“Wait, wait.” Lucas sat ramrod straight, blinking rapidly. Did Eliott just— “You _knew _my roommates as early as _last year_?”

“Yeah,” Eliott said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“… So you all _conspired _to make this happen?” Lucas scowled, not knowing how to feel about this bit of information. He wasn’t going to fly into a rage exactly, but he was hardly ecstatic at the fact that all these people basically hid Eliott from him for almost a year.

“I know how it looks,” he said quickly, upon noticing Lucas’s brows furrowing deep. “We didn’t conspire. You have to understand, Lucas - I really wanted to meet and get to know you. They really just helped me get my shit together. At the time, my ex-girlfriend Lucille and I were on our ‘off’ period, but she was angling for us to get back together again. My friends, Idriss, Sofiane, Even - all of them urged me to break it off with her for good. I wasn’t stupid enough to try and ask you out while I still had a relationship on pause.”

Eliott ran a hand through his hair, sighing. “They were supposed to introduce us at the year-ender party. But I got accepted into the Madrid exchange and had to leave the next semester. Didn’t get the chance again until a few days ago since your roommates couldn’t convince you to go to the party last month.” He smiled wryly. “Apparently, you were really busy.”

Lucas bit the inside of his cheek. His temper that rose up at Eliott’s little revelation went down in steady waves as the other explained himself calmly and with a touch of self deprecation. He replied carefully, “I take my studies seriously - I have to. I’m here on a full scholarship. I can’t be going to parties every other night or I’d be kicked out. Obviously, I don’t study very well or get my best ideas when high.” _Unlike some people_, he didn’t say.

He thought carefully about what he’d heard. He took another sip of coffee, having decided on moving on to the crux of this entire conversation. “The letter. How did that happen?”

“If you’re wondering whether those instagram posts were planned, they weren’t. It was really all your roommates’ doing.”

Lucas rolled his eyes. “Of course it was all their doing. Those two love to fuck with me any chance they get.”

Eliott laughed lightly. “I don’t know about fucking with you exactly. It’s not much, but I _have _talked to both of them about you. Honestly, a lot of fondness there, buried under tons of snark and sarcasm. Your dynamic is more brotherly than you think.”

Lucas shuddered. “Yikes. No thanks.”

Eliott shook his head in mock exasperation. “Well, when they posted that, I was messaging David. At this point, I didn’t know if you were going or not to Alex’s. In a fit of impulse, I just… word vomited, I guess. Didn’t think too much about it, except that I had to find a way to get you to notice me. David told me it was cheesy—“

“It was.”

Eliott offered a cheeky grin. “But it worked, didn’t it?”

“… We’ll see about that,” Lucas mumbled, blushing profusely yet again. Damnit.

“Anyway, I gave him the letter. I think it was it in his jacket the entire time. After they introduced us, he and Matteo made a quick stopover back to your dorm. You were with me, plus you’d already drunk quite a bit, so you’d never have noticed them leaving early.”

For a few moments Lucas considered, Eliott watching him carefully for his reaction.

Without preamble, Lucas said, “Why did you sleep with me that night?”

To Lucas’s surprise, Eliott glanced downward, as if taken aback. But when Eliott looked back up at him again, he smiled, and the smile was equal parts warm and apologetic. “I didn’t plan to, actually. I was happy - more than happy - just talking and dancing. But, you were just so—“ He cut himself off, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Lucas remembered Eliott being _really_ direct that night - _you look like you need me to wreck you_.

“You were laying it on… pretty thick.”

Eliott’s eyes met Lucas’s with almost unnerving directness. “And you kissed me.”

_Oh_ _yeah_. Eliott was the one with all the bold words, but technically he’d made the first move.

They’d danced and flirted and it had been so long for Lucas, so fucking long. He’d given in to the wild impulse he’d felt when he first saw Eliott under neon strobe lights, walk sure and confident like he owned the room, like he already owned Lucas. He remembered his pulse thumping against his ribcage. Every part of it was almost new again to Lucas: the tension in Eliott’s lips, the feather light rasp of stubble beneath his palm as he touched Eliott’s face, the heat of Eliott’s body as they leaned into each other. Nothing existed then except for them and their bodies, commingled, intertwined.

Lucas gulped. “Ah. Yeah.”

They held each other’s gazes for a moment. Eliott was the first to look away, clearing his throat as if recovering his senses. “Talking to you now, I’m not sure it was the best idea.”

Lucas looked off to the side, embarrassment clutching at his guts like a hot, angry fist. “Was I that bad?”

“No, no. It’s not that, Lucas,” Eliott was quick to assure. “You were fantastic. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d have you like that. I mean, the boy of my dreams in bed with me? It was like this impossible fantasy I didn’t want to wake up from.”

Humiliation gave way to incredulity as Lucas stared at Eliott like he’d grown a second head. _Boy of my dreams_. Had Eliott seriously not seen himself in any mirrors lately?

“I meant that I should have had more self-control, taken the time to talk to you, _really_ talk to you. Not when you were drunk, not at this loud party trying to talk over the noise,” Eliott continued. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known you wouldn’t take me seriously after that. I wanted to go about it the more, uh, traditional route.”

“Traditional route?”

“Yeah. Introduce myself. See if I’d get a date or two. Take it slow.” Eliott laughed softly to himself. “So much for that.”

Lucas must be in a parallel universe, and if so, his parallel universe self must be about ready to die right now.

“You could still do that,” he suggested, a little hesitantly.

Eliott’s hopeful smile at those few words could light up entire cities.

.

Knowing Eliott jumped through proverbial rings of fire to prove _how much_ into Lucas he was, Lucas would be insane not to give Eliott the promise of a second date - on a few conditions. The rest of the time at the cafe, they’d worked out the “terms” of their arrangement, with Lucas dictating most of it. Eliott nodded intermittently, listening with intent, all the while keeping his gaze affixed on Lucas.

The gist was they’d do things this time in reverse, unlike the first time they met. They’d exclusively date for a few weeks and see where it led to from there; the exact duration would be a moving target. No kissing and definitely no sex on the first few dates - Lucas almost gave himself pause before stating this “rule,” but he said it, anyway. If left unchecked, they’d be falling into bed way before the first date was over, and he’d never get the chance to get to know Eliott beyond their inarguably amazing sexual chemistry.

Some people would of course argue that sexual chemistry was all you needed in a relationship. But Lucas was a believer in the natural cycle of passion. Eighteen months, they said. More, if you were very - almost divinely - lucky. Would Eliott still want him if was old and grey and with sagging jowls? Then again, Isak and Even had been together almost half a decade and _they _were still fucking like rabbits.

It was also because before this, Lucas had never been with someone so gorgeous yet so easily awed around him. And honestly? It was totally doing it for him - which was _not_ supposed to happen until like, the fifth date or something.

“So did you guys fuck again or?” was the first thing out of Matteo’s mouth as soon as he entered the living room. He was sprawled on the couch with his bare feet up the armrest, texting on his phone and munching on a sandwich dripping with some sort of frothy cream in the middle. _Ugh._

“Don’t start,” Lucas said in warning. “And how did you know I was with Eliott?”

“David,” Matteo said simply.

Lucas blew air out of his nose, pinching the skin on his temple. “You have some explaining to do. You and the _other_ blond dickhead who lives with us. Where is he, anyway?“

“Out. Studying with Even.” Matteo stressed the word ‘studying’, clearing up for Lucas exactly what the other boy was up to.

“Right. Well?” He spread his hands apart like he was trying to conjure something. “Explain. You know what I’m talking about, and _don’t_ try and weasel out of it.”

Matteo shrugged carelessly. “He liked you. A lot. It’s not like we wanted you to go out with an asshole, ‘cos that’d be bad for us, too, y’know. What if he tried to leave his shit all over the toaster or stole our weed?” Because clearly that was the dictionary definition of ‘asshole’ in Matteo’s world. Lucas could feel a headache coming on. “David vouched for him. Even too. We figured - eh, why not? Best case scenario, you’d get a dude who’d appreciate your neurotic self. Worst case scenario, it’d be funny as hell. I’d say it’s a win-win.”

“And what if it _wasn’t_ funny, you _conspirer,_” Lucas accused.

Matteo stared at him, considering. “So you didn’t fuck?”

“No. And that’s not the point,” Lucas snapped, bristling. “We went out for coffee and it turned out okay - maybe more than okay - but what if it didn’t? What if this all turned out to be some— some massive months-long scheme and he’d ditch me by the end of the first date?”

“Woah, what?” Matteo, being Matteo, had the sheer audacity to laugh at his misery. “You’re not, like, living in a 90’s romcom, who even invests all that effort for a scheme? Now you’re just looking for the big loophole, which I don’t get. You like him too, right?”

“Yeah, but—“

“Hey, quit that,” Matteo said, in an interesting combination of his usual impassivity mixed with surprising sternness. “No ifs, not buts. Just go for it. Maybe it’ll go to shit ‘cos nothing’s perfect. You mope a little, then move on. But it’s going okay now, so go with that. Things don’t have to be complicated if you don’t _make_ it complicated.”

_He’s a twelve on a scale of one to ten, and I’m like a six, maybe seven if I cleaned up in a nice suit. Too nice. Too bright. Too smiley. Who smiles that much? Only Even, David, and serial killers smile that much. Shit. I don’t think a body that tastes like expired ramen noodles and beer tastes great to serial killers. Maybe he was way more experience and he’ll eventually think I suck in bed. No, that’s not a maybe - he definitely has more experience. Someone in his own league will probably try and snatch him up. He’ll have to put up with me, my walls, my natural defensiveness. Everybody leaves, anyway. Plus, he’s a cancer. Based on experience, not very compatible._

“Stop fucking thinking. Trust me. He’s. Super. Into. You,” Matteo emphasized. “Like, disgustingly.”

Lucas winced as Matteo took a big bite, small bits of froth sticking at the corner of his mouth. And was that a touch of pickle? “Like you’re super into that sandwich?”

“If I was up for marrying this sandwich, sure,” Matteo agreed, chewing obnoxiously. “Let’s go with that.”

.

For their second-but-sort-of-first date, Eliott suggested a movie. Typical date fare, but way better than his first go-round with second dates, which had just seen him and Julien at a cheap kebab place. Come to think of it, he and Julien almost always had dates in mom-and-pop joints. Maybe for lack of money, maybe for lack of creativity or enthusiasm.

As Eliott suggested _The Nun, _Lucas felt obliged to view the trailer fifteen minutes before stepping out of the dorm. It pretty much looked like a standard horror movie. Lucas had seen enough of these to know when the jump scares were coming, so it if he was excited at all, it certainly wasn’t about Eliott’s movie choice.

Lucas hurried out the dorm dressed unremarkably: his usual grey hoodie (a remnant of his lycée wardrobe that he couldn’t find in himself to throw out), skinny jeans (the ones that made his ass look great - not that he wanted anyone to notice), and beat-up blue sneakers (they added a little more street cred to his outfit, as if he regularly stomped the grounds, nevermind that save for a few parties he was basically a hermit).

“Hey,” Eliott greeted when he rounded the corner. He was in all black - pants, shirt, and leather jacket, the epitome of picture perfect cool. He eyed Lucas head to toe, not even bothering to hide his blatant appreciation. “You look great. Ready to go in? I’ve already got the tickets.”

“Thanks. You don’t look half-bad yourself,” he said, finally managing to wrangle words into a coherent sentence. Thank god his mouth didn’t decide to _just_ stay gaping at Eliott like a goldfish.

Eliott chuckled, and Lucas could drown in the sound and die happy. He lightly grasped Lucas by the elbow, gently steering him to the theater entrance. “Coming from you, that’s really a compliment of the highest order.”

“Pssh. I take it back. Wouldn’t want to inflate the ego of an Elite model,” Lucas scoffed, leaning in a little to Eliott’s warmth.

“If I’d known you’d hold that against me, I’d never have said it,” Eliott huffed, but there was an undercurrent of warmth that made something bubble within Lucas’s chest.

Lucas snorted. He let himself be led up the stairs into the dark cinema, Eliott’s hand moving up to his bicep. “I’d have found out, anyway. You aren’t exactly subtle about your model status on insta. All those photos—” He tore his eyes away from Eliott’s side profile, grateful the dark could hide his growing blush. “They were so… so—“

Eliott, thankfully, was a little preoccupied trying to find their seats. As they sat down, he tilted his head to Lucas. “What were you saying about insta?” he said in a low whisper. 

“I was saying they were… model-y.”

Words? Who was she. Vocabulary? Don’t know her. That was the best he could articulate, because Eliott’s entire feed was a showcase of beauty. Lucas could hardly keep his fingers from shaking as the page loaded photo after photo of Eliott eyefucking the camera, and by extension, Lucas as the creeper cyberstalking his page. His brain’s basic functions had just given up trying to come up with a term encompassing all the ways Eliott’s face made him internally scream.

He could _hear _Eliott smug smirk in the dark. “Right.”

"Shut up,” he hissed, hoping it didn’t sound too much like a whine. “The movie’s starting.”

Lucas never would’ve guessed it, but Eliott wasn’t partial to horror movies. At all. Tall guy, could probably beat up someone if he put his mind to it, intimidatingly good-looking, devastatingly cool. How could this guy not be a horror fan? And he _suggested_ this movie when they could’ve watched _The Lion King_ or something that didn’t have Eliott’s trembling hand slipping onto his wrist, looking like he wanted to bury himself under his seat.

“Putain!” Lucas jumped because of the scene he hadn’t been paying full attention to. He wasn’t one to scream or startle during horror movies because these things were mostly predictable. When he was distracted, however - like when he kept stealing glances at a certain someone, oddly fascinated by the play of light and shadow across cheekbones - jump scares got to him as easily as anyone else.

Eliott’s hand tentatively grasped his own, supposedly to calm him down. At least that’s what he thought - until he felt Eliott _shaking. _Minutely, but Lucas could feel the tiny movements against his shoulder where Eliott had curled his body into his own.

“Are you okay?” he whispered. If he was starting to get not a bit nervous, he’d blame it at Eliott unconsciously snuggling closer as the movie progressed, his chin now on Lucas’s shoulder.

“Y-yeah,” Eliott breathed, soft and uncertain. After a beat, he asked curiously, “Are you scared?”

“… Just a little,” he admitted lowly, which Eliott could probably surmise was Lucas-speak for ‘not much bordering on not at all.’ “You look like you’re about to have a heart attack, though.”

Speaking of heart attacks, his own heart threatened to explode out his ribcage as Eliott let loose a nervous chuckle under his breath. When Eliott spoke, warm air tickled the hairs on his neck. “I thought we’d at least be scared together.”

Lucas got it, then. Sometimes, he was so dense he swore light probably bent around him. But this? Not one of those times.

If Eliott noticed Lucas shrieking a few nanoseconds later than everyone else in the theater, or his fingers curling around Eliott’s forearm a good few minutes _before_ the actual jump scares, Eliott didn’t say anything. 

Later that night, just before he was about to turn on airplane mode and shove his phone under his pillow, it buzzed with a new instagram notification. His eyes narrowed, struggling to see in the dark, then went wide.

_srodulv started following you_

.

Lucas dragged his bare feet into the bedroom, all tired eyes and heavy limbs from a full schedule of lectures and deadlines. He couldn’t wait to climb up the bunk he shared with Isak and drool into his pillows for the next twelve hours, not thinking about classes and feeling Things™ and _stuff_ that he’d rather not associate with Eliott now that Eliott hadn’t texted or messaged in two days. Was it because he was supposed to text first? Was Eliott waiting for Lucas to say something before reaching out?

But. He truly, honestly didn’t know what to say. He wanted to smack himself. Nevermind the horror movie, because how the hell did he find Eliott shyly holding his hand all the way back to the dorm more intimate, unsettling, and frightening than Eliott taking him to bed? How did an innocent show of affection carry more subtext than _fucking_?

He paid no mind to his roommates. Isak sat slumped on the ergonomic chair, his usual red snapback resting haphazardly on blond curls as he typed lethargically on his beat-up Lenovo; Matteo was the picture of concentrated calm, practically zen as he sat cross-legged, carefully breaking up a large green bud of what was undoubtedly the finest weed in the entire building.

Lucas grunted his greetings, receiving equally impassive replies. He didn’t bother telling them both to be quiet, since that was one of their unspoken rules, anyway - _sleep is sacred in this room_. He yawned loudly, mussing up his hair as he lifted one leg to begin the slow climb up the bunk.

Then Isak sat up straight, suddenly beginning to type furiously.

“Matteo, Matteo. _Matty.” _His foot shot out to the side, barely missing Matteo’s head. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Isak said excitedly.

Matteo was now carefully pulling out sets of rolling papers, taking great pains not to tear or crease it. He paused to glare up at Isak.

“Fuck, how many times have I told you _not_ to call—“

“Yeah, you can call me whatever you want later.” Isak waved a dismissive hand in Matteo’s direction. “Dude, look at Eliott’s instagram.”

Lucas’s foot froze on the step, his entire back going rigid.

“I’m there.” Matteo was already scrolling on his phone faster than Lucas could say _what the fuck_. Trust Matteo to only be quick about two things: rolling a joint and creeping on instagram. “What about it? I’m seeing the usual thirst trappy pics, the occasional selfie. How is his _face _a fucking thirst trap, too?”

Lucas felt his blood pressure rise up a notch as he stalked over to the study table, situating himself between his roommates. “What the hell are you two going on about?”

Isak looked like an overeager puppy as he grabbed at Lucas’s sleeve. “Lucas, he followed you!”

That earned a raised brow from Lucas. “Yeah, and? I haven’t followed him yet but I was planning to, anyway…” he tacked on, leaving out the fact that he was delaying following Eliott for reasons that were not entirely known to even him.

“The fuck, man? Don’t you get it? He doesn’t follow any of us. He doesn’t follow _anyone_. Just you.”

Lucas’s heart began hammering loudly in his chest. Outwardly, his brow furrowed. “So you go around checking Eliott’s instagram for his follow-backs?”

“No. I’ve better things to do than stalk your not-boyfriend’s page,” Isak said, unsaid air quotes thick around the words ‘not boyfriend’. Lucas rolled his eyes. “But Even apparently doesn’t. He was the one who told me. I don’t know, can you like, set up notifications for that sort of thing?”

“Maybe it’s ESP,” Matteo quipped, shrugging. “David, too. I mean, he just messaged me the same thing five seconds ago.” Matteo held his phone up; Lucas squinted at the screen and saw David’s WhatsApp message of _check eli’s ig follows_ along with _did lucas see yet? is he still breathing???_

“They’re all the same fucking person, I swear,” Isak swore under his breath. “It’s kinda freaky. I don’t wanna think of David when I’m with Even. No offence, dude.”

“None taken. Same sentiments, but like, vice-versa.”

Lucas stared at them both, then at the untouched rolling papers and weed on the floor. “Fuck, are you both already high or something?”

After a few hits and one back-and-forth circling debate about whether or not David and Even were parallel universe alter egos, he decided to just go for it, because fuck it. What was the point of delaying it further when he knew he’d do it eventually?

He held a hope deep in his heart that Eliott would smile that brilliant, world-ending smile when he saw it: _lucallement started following you._

.

“That’s cute. Witty,” Lucas said evenly, looking up at the _Paws and Rewind _sign in appreciation.

Really, when Eliott texted him to meet at a dog cafe for their third (and yes, he _was _counting this as the third) date, his soul nearly ascended. He didn’t even _know_ there was a dog cafe just a few bus stops away from campus, let alone that Eliott was apparently a frequent visitor. Gorgeous _and _a dog lover? Eliott could not get any more perfect - not that he’d let Eliott know anytime today.

From the outside, it looked like a hundred other cafes he’d been to - cream walls, birchwood tables, squashy sofas, and magazines strewn around tables, only there were big, clear windows showing roaming, playful pups scampering about the floor. He felt his cool-as-a-cucumber resolve melt like butter in a frying pan.

Eliott hummed beside him, clearly pleased. “I come here a lot when I want to relax.” The sunlight caused his pupils to shrink to the size of pinpricks, and Lucas was sucked into the vortex of his blue-grey irises so quickly it felt like he was drowning. “But haven’t had the chance to come back in weeks. The first time I went here, I meant to stay only an hour but ended up staying for like, half a day. You’ll see what I mean.”

Lucas loved dogs, though his life had so far led him from one dog-free path to another without really meaning to. As a kid, he frequently ran around with his playmates’ dogs, though he himself wasn’t allowed to bring one at home; his father was allergic to animal fur. No matter how much he cried and begged, he was never able to convince either of his parents to acquiesce, even if he promised to shave his dog until it was completely hairless. And so he was nourished on a childish kind of loneliness, a lethargic brew that brought the world to its brilliant boiling point for hour upon silent hour, and he came to be used to a pet-less life that way. 

He had the sneaking suspicion it was Matteo who told Eliott of his long-held fondness for dogs. There was a period during one particularly stressful week when he used to have Alexia’s fluffy golden retriever puppy, Sunny, as his phone lockscreen. Matteo had at some point switched phones with him as he rushed out during one hectic morning. He remembered freaking the fuck out when he first saw the home screen, confused as to why the hell David would be sending him what looked like a dozen eggplant and raindrop emojis in the message preview - but that was beside the point.

Eliott gently led Lucas inside by the shoulder, the sound of skittering paws against the floor and playful yips drowning out the low chatter inside the cafe. Lucas scanned the room, seeing a few baristas behind the front counter, a chalk-written menu behind them showing an array of dog-themed food and drinks, as well as a healthy dose of dog puns.

“Hey, dude!” Eliott suddenly exclaimed. Lucas’s gaze landed on a barista brushing a small, black French poodle puppy who looked animated by Disney himself - floppy ears, short stubby tail, and coat a matting of tight black curls. She was beautiful. She was also being brushed by—

“David?” He did a double-take because since when did David work at a dog cafe?

“Eli! Lucas!” Yep, that was definitely David waving them over, gummy smile and floppy midnight hair falling over his forehead. The puppy wiggled immediately, looking up at David like it just didn’t understand why he wasn’t petting it anymore; David moved his hand again quickly so the puppy went back to blissed out contentment.

Eliott cooed at the sight, and Lucas tried not to giggle at the sound of it. Damn him and his weakness for dogs… and for cute boys cooing at dogs. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to keep up the cool facade when there were so many adorable little pups just waiting to be carried around and hugged. Couple that with Eliott practically_ vibrating_ with excitement and he was destined to not survive this date.

“Come to visit Mimi again, Eli?” David beamed as they went up to him. His eyes twinkled with barely concealed teasing as he looked between them.

Eliott had dropped down to crouch by David, sticking his arm for the puppy to sniff. The puppy seemed to deem Eliott worthy of transfer after only a few sniffs, jumping from David’s lap into Eliott’s arms with a yip. Honestly, the puppy had the right idea; Lucas stared at Eliott’s arm muscles flexing to hold the squirming pup steady.

“Nice to see you brought Lucas this time. He’s been wanting to bring you here ever since Matteo told him you liked dogs,” David addressed Lucas, still with that knowing smile.

“Ah, so it _was_ him,” Lucas said accusingly, though he hardly found it within himself to even feel a smidgen of annoyance when he knelt down beside Eliott, leant his face in, and let the puppy lick all over his face. He made little noises of protest, but fuck if he didn’t love it. Eliott seemed to love it, too, though he wasn’t sure if his fond little smile was directed at him, the puppy, or both of them. “This is Mimi?”

“Nope, this one’s Greta. Mimi’s somewhere by the playpen, I’ll go get her. You two take Greta for a bit. You might wanna grab a tug toy, she loves playing pull.”

David stood up, spotting a piece of rope to the side and handing it to Eliott to grab one end before walking over to a farther corner of the room. Greta yapped happily when she saw the rope and tugged, growling as she did. Eliott laughed and pulled her about; no way was Greta winning but her determined attempts were adorable.

“Mimi’s the sweetest, though I really do adore all of them here.” Eliott said as Greta jerked her head and yanked the rope out of his grasp, catching Eliott by surprise. She darted away, pleased with herself.

Lucas cracked up at the sight. “She got you there.”

Before Eliott could launch himself after Greta (and maybe murder Lucas in the process because _shit,_ too cute), David was back with a pomeranian, her caramel fur sticking up in tufts around her little head.

Lucas couldn’t help it - he let out a little (but very manly) squeal of delight, screw being cool. David bent down at the waist to scoop a squirming Mimi into his arms. “Here you go, dude. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go feed the labrador puppies, they’re getting kinda antsy. You guys enjoy, okay?” And with that, he winked at Lucas, bumped fists with Eliott, and took his leave.

Lucas was way too far gone in a haze of cute and cuddly pomeranian to assign any particular meaning to David’s wink. “I didn’t know she was a Pom. I love Poms, I seriously wanted one back in Paris.”

“Why didn’t you adopt one? There must’ve been a few at the shelter.” Eliott reached over to gently scratch at Mimi’s ear.

Lucas scrunched his nose at the memory. “We weren’t allowed pets at the flatshare where I stayed. And even if it was, I didn’t exactly have the time nor the funds back then to take care of a pet. I really would’ve loved too, though. Can’t tell you how many times I imagined playing with one whenever I—“ Was lonely, he didn’t say. He cleared his throat.

Eliott nodded, a tender expression gracing his countenance. “Suppose you did have one. What would you have named her or him?”

“Ouba.” 

“Oh, like the cartoon? Ouba, Ouba…” Eliott sang under his breath, smiling wide.

Lucas hid his giggle in Mimi’s soft fur. “Shit, I didn’t think you’d remember that.”

Eliott looked mildly affronted. “And why wouldn’t I? Every French kid worth his salt knows Marsupilami.”

“Worth his salt, huh?” Lucas buried his face in Mimi’s fur before lifting his head and adding, “You don’t seem like the type to watch cartoons.”

Eliott broke into a full grin at that, like he was enjoying hiding a certain secret. “And what ‘type’ do you think I am exactly?”

“Hmm.” Lucas tapped at his chin with his free hand, making a show of it. “You look like the type to watch Godard and Truffaut at seven years old… and now you’re so sick of being such a pretentious film snob at a young age, you’ve moved on to bad horror.”

“Ow!” Eliott clutched at his heart in mock-hurt, laughing. “I told you I wanted to find an indie theater but it was too far from campus. Yet _another_ piece of info you’re using against me. Lucas, that’s already too much.”

“We could’ve watched a classic like _Les Parapluies de Cherbourg _or _La Belle et La Bete_**_. _**Instead you made me sit through a movie with the lines ‘Holy shit!’ and ‘The holiest!” said one after the other.” Lucas shook his head, but he was smiling. “Admit it. You just wanted an excuse to cuddle up and hold hands at the jump scares.”

Eliott held his hands up in defense, eyes twinkling. “Well, nothing answers the ‘should we hold hands’ question better than moving corpses.”

Lucas bit the inside of his cheek, looking down at Mimi, who shifted and licked at his ear. “What do you think, Mimi? Should we let Eliott get away with taking me to see the cinematic equivalent of a busted electrical buzzer?”

As if in reply, Mimi wiggled for a moment then settled, head on Lucas’s shoulder. Eliott chewed on his lower lip, shading it with that distracting hue that should be made illegal for the severe palpitations it caused in Lucas’s heart. “Now _that_ is cute. Do you mind if I, um, take a photo?”

Mimi was curled up, eyes closed, nestled into Lucas. Something in his chest eased as he ducked his head in Mimi’s soft fur.

At the same time, strands of hair fell into his eyes. Eliott reached out, almost hesitantly, tucking the stray locks of his fringe behind his ear, hair slipping through his moving fingertips like sand in an hourglass. His fingertips lingered on the side of Lucas’s head, thumb tracing over his brow as Lucas moved to speak.

“Okay,” Lucas said a bit breathlessly, his eyes not once breaking contact with Eliott’s.


End file.
